


The Silent Spaces

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Series: Holly's Kinktober 2019 [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blindfolds, Gags, M/M, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 03:49:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20901170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: His breathing feels too fast, something at the edge of his mind panicking at the lack of sensory input. Just as it gets to be too much, a hand comes to rest over Tony's chest, thumb and forefinger wrapping around the edges of the arc reactor. For all that this should be utterly terrifying, Tony also knows those calluses. Knows that hand. Knows what it is to feel the man he loves so close to him.Written for the Kinktober Prompt "Sensory Deprivation."





	The Silent Spaces

The blindfold isn't heavy, but its presence is weighty. Tony tries not to think too hard about that. Still, there's something about the lack of sight that makes him unsteady where he lies in the bed. He'll never see Steve coming. Even if he could, his wrists are bound too, so he couldn't do much about it.

The earplugs are his own design, blocking out all sound on all frequencies the human ear can detect. The vague ringing that had occupied his ears at first has since dissipated. It's uncomfortable, but he'd at least had time to practice with these before. He'd designed them, after all.

The gag had been Steve's idea. Something to keep his mouth spread wide open in case Steve wants to have his mouth in addition to his ass. It's leaving his mouth dry even as it produces enough saliva to drown him, a strange combination he doesn't quite know how to handle.

Then there are the neural inhibitors that are blocking his sense of smell. At that point, Tony was mostly just showing off, but now that everything is in place simultaneously, he can't help but wonder what a stroke of genius it was. Because nothing is getting through these inhibitors, and that means he has only one sense left.

Touch.

His breathing feels too fast, something at the edge of his mind panicking at the lack of sensory input. Just as it gets to be too much, a hand comes to rest over Tony's chest, thumb and forefinger wrapping around the edges of the arc reactor. For all that this should be utterly terrifying, Tony also knows those calluses. Knows that hand. Knows what it is to feel the man he loves so close to him.

Two taps. _Are you okay?_

Tony presses the buzzer in his hand once. _Yes._

Steve runs a proprietary hand along Tony's chest, fingers careful and wanting as they move. Tony would smile at that, but his mouth is a rictus around the gag. He hums a bit and knows that that's enough.

Steve kisses the corner of his mouth. Tony turns toward the touch, want and hope blooming in his chest. Steve's here, with him. That's what matters. Steve responds with a kiss to Tony's bottom lip followed by a thumb running over the same space. Tony sighs, his eyes falling shut behind the blindfold. The darkness grows thicker, heavier, and it means more than Tony can say that he's at Steve's mercy like this. Steve runs that same thumb along the line of Tony's jaw, and Tony knows that he understands.

Steve's hand slips from Tony's face, tracing lightly over his throat, his pecs, his stomach. It's a long, slow, easy slide that stirs the want in Tony's belly and has him going limp and loose in the bed. Steve follows his fingers with his lips, a gentle, easy press on his skin. For all that he wants to, Tony doesn't arch up against the sensation. It isn't time yet.

When Steve's hand makes it down to the cut of his hip, Tony's body lights up. It's warmth and want and desire, Steve close to the deepest, most desperate part of him, but not so close that he's there yet. He keeps his hips still, willing to wait for what Steve will give him. Steve knows his body best, after all.

The sensation that ghosts over the inside of his thigh is foreign. Tony's breath catches in his chest -- he thinks he knows what this is, but it can't be. It's too intense.

The warm, wet heat comes again, and this time Tony's certain. It's little more than Steve's breath rushing over his skin. Tony whines. The feeling of the sound reverberate in his chest when he can't hear it through his own ears is a strange one, unsettling and unnerving. Tony leans into it. That's what this is all about, after all. There's nothing but the feel of Steve's skin on his and the sense of his own body's limits. That's all there is right now.

When Steve swallows him down in one go with no warning, Tony can't stop the way he arches up against the wet heat of his mouth. Steve's hands come immediately to his hips, pressing him down to the bed in his vise-like grip. Tony whines again and lets the strangeness of the lack of sound soothe him. He can feel it in his chest, knows he's making a sound, but his brain is rebelling against the silence again. It's exactly what he'd wanted and more than he can bear. Steve holds him to the bed, his mouth working Tony over until he's writhing against Steve's hands, and then he's pulling away. Tony keens, the sound still not penetrating his ear. It unsettles him.

Then Steve's tugging at the plug in his ass and all bets are off.

Tony twists and turns, writhes and begs with his body, willing to give Steve whatever he wants. Steve runs a hand along his side, sending goosebumps running along Tony's skin until his fingertips come to rest at Tony's collarbone

Two taps. _Are you okay?_

One press of the buzzer. _Yes._

Now it's both hands at his shoulders, both hands sliding down his sides, both hands tipping his hips up. Even with all the preamble and forewarning, Tony isn't ready for what's coming. Steve, pressing into him in one long, slow push that fills Tony until he's gagging on air. It isn't the first time Steve's been inside him, but it might be the most intense. When there's nothing of the sound of his breath, nothing of the sight of blue eyes and golden hair, all that's left is the feel of Steve inside of him. It's heady.

Tony lets loose with another silent whine, hips pressing down and circling Steve's cock. Steve moves him, folding his lower half up into a pretzel as he pulls out slowly and angles Tony's body for the next thrust. It's a slow, steady push-pull of their bodies, and Tony leans into it, letting Steve wind the strings of his body tighter and tighter. He struggles against the cuffs, desperate to wrap his arms around Steve, but they hold firm. Steve goes right on fucking into him, slow and steady and so, so deep.

When Steve's mouth comes to rest against the hollow of Tony's throat, Tony's just about done for.

There's no sound of the low litany of Steve's words, but Tony thinks he can feel Steve forming the words against his skin. He's never before thought it might be necessary to read lips with his skin instead of his eyes, but suddenly he wishes he had the skill. The words leave tiny puffs of air over his skin, warmth and want in the breath, and Tony wants so badly to know what Steve's saying. But he doesn't. It's both worse and better, because for all that Tony doesn't _know_ what Steve's saying, in this moment he can replace the breath with whatever words he wants.

And, if he's being honest, the shape of Steve's lips really does feel like _I love you_.

As the thought settles, Tony feels his body go tense, his orgasm swelling at the thought that Steve might actually want him as badly as he wants Steve. He arches against Steve's hold, feeling Steve's lips slide from the hollow of his throat to his collarbone. He keens, the sound still not reaching his brain, and then Steve's fucking into him again, his whole body seemingly keyed into Tony. Tony comes, feeling it land on his belly as Steve goes on moving inside him. He relaxes into it, the overstimulation just as hot as the coming itself.

Then Steve freezes, cock twitching inside of him, and for an instant, Tony thinks he can feel Steve's come flooding his insides. It has him whimpering and wanting, his head turning toward where he thinks Steve's is in quiet supplication.

Steve doesn't deny. As soon as he stops coming, stops fucking into Tony, his lips are on Tony's, reminding him with teeth and tongue that Tony is his, that he is Tony's, that this relationship isn't to disappear any time soon. It has Tony relaxing into the black and the silence again, feeling his body succumb to the lack of stimulation.

Steve taps the edge of his arc reactor once. _Done?_

Tony thinks about it for a moment. About returning to the world of noise and light and color, of too much all the time. He presses the buzzer in his hand once. _No._

Steve stills above him. Then he leans down, kissing the hollow of Tony's throat again before he traces two letters over the skin over Tony's ribs. _OK_.

Tony swallows down the relief and sinks into Steve's touch. It's exactly what he needed. It's exactly what he wanted. And, right now, it's exactly what he has.

And, really, what can he say right now _Of course it would be Steve. Of course._

Tony leans into Steve and, for now, ceases to think.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again a day late but not quite a dollar short. Enjoy the continued kinkiness?


End file.
